The Wogglebug's (Mis)Adventures in TV Land
by WogglebugLoveProductions
Summary: Mr. Wogglebug has a fantastic series of adventures through various worlds of classic TV shows. He often delights in helping the people in them, but sometimes his attempts prove in vain. TV Shows range from sitcoms of the 50s-60s, and 80s-90s. Classic kids shows of PBS and CBS and Nick Jr. A few serious shows thrown in also.
1. Chapter 1

Gilligan sat in the sand with his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them and his head resting on them. He had been here for a while now and the sun was setting over the ocean. The others had all gone off to bed but he wasn't in the mood to go to his and the Skipper's hut to sleep. He had just spoiled another plan to be rescued and received another berating from the Skipper for it.

_Skipper's right,_ he thought gloomily. _I am a doofus and it's all my fault. Every time we've tried to get home we've failed and it's always been because of me. Either because of my clumsiness or my ignorance. _

He began thinking if he wasn't here with them they all could have been rescued by now. The Skipper would be back in the navy like he wanted to be, Ginger would be back in Hollywood making movies, the Professor would be teaching at his high school again, the Howells would be back in their mansion making investments and paying off debts as they wanted to be doing, and Mary Ann would be with her family on their farm in Kansas again. Come to think of it, they had something and, or, someone waiting for them back home, except him.

He had no one missing him back home and there was also no one to miss him here. It seemed to him they had all just made it clear they didn't want him here with them just to ruin their chance of getting rescued again and again. He then decided it was for the best if he left them all right now.

He set to work building a raft. He cut down a number of trees and then began cutting off the branches which filled with palm leaves. Then he began tying the trees together with cord and carving wooden pegs to hold them in place. He had never worked so much by himself before. His eyes were stinging and not just from lack of sleep for his heart was aching him more than his back was.

At last the raft was finished and he pushed it into the ocean and scrambled onto it. Then he took a long wooden pole he had constructed and began pushing the raft out into the ocean's current.

"Goodbye island!" he called out.

The island began to look smaller and smaller behind him. He looked ahead to the horizon as the sun was coming up. It lit up the sky in yellow light underlain with pink clouds and cast a shiny silvery glow upon the deep blue ocean. Gilligan would have found it beautiful if he hadn't been feeling so down in his heart.

He suddenly heard a soft flapping noise and looked way up at the sky, tilting his head back. For a moment he thought he was looking at a very large and strange bird, but then as the object in the sky began falling closer towards him he saw that the things making the flapping sound were palm leaves. The body of the thing looked like two old-fashioned beds or sofas tied together and a broom was sticking out of its back-end like a tail, and in front of it he saw a head which looked like the head of small moose.

Suddenly something fell out of the sky and landed on the raft at his feet. He picked it up and saw that it was one of the giant palm fronds from the strange-looking thing that was flying in the sky. Then as he looked up again he saw that now the thing was actually falling from the sky.

He watched it's decent as it seemed to be breaking apart. The broom fell off next as more of the palm fronds came loose. And by the time the two sofas split apart it had just landed in the ocean. Gilligan watched it splash from ten feet away, and he could have sworn he saw a figure laying in between the two sofas.

He wondered if perhaps he had imagined it, but he got his answer when sudden he saw a head pop up out of the water's surface. From his distance it looked like a man with dark skin and a long nose. He flailed his arms out and began crying out desperately.

"Help! Help! I can't swim!"

Gilligan saw him and hurriedly rowed up to him and as soon as he was close enough he reached out his pole and called out, "Here, grab hold!"

The strange-looking man quickly grabbed onto the pole and Gilligan pulled him up and eased him up onto the raft beside him. He sat dripping wet and shivering with his arms wrapped around himself.

"Oh, my! Thank you ever so much, young sir! You have surely saved my life!" exclaimed the stranger as he shook water out of his hat and placed it back on his head. "Now you must take me ashore where I can dry off!"

"Hey, it's the least I could do, Mr...?"

"Wogglebug," replied the stranger cordially. "Mr. H.M. Wogglebug T.E."

"What's a wogglebug?" inquired Gilligan.

"Why I'm one!" exclaimed Mr. Wogglebug. "Do you not recognize a highly magnified insect when you see one?"

"Oh! Now I see! You're a bug! You've got feelers!" exclaimed Gilligan as if realizing this for the first time.

"Yes, I am a very rare and valuable insect from the wonderful land of Oz," Mr. Wogglebug went on proudly. "I had the good fortune of being brought up in a schoolhouse and so I had become thoroughly educated by the time I became highly magnified."

"The land of Oz?" repeated Gilligan. "You mean as in _The Wizard of Oz_? I loved that movie when I was a kid!"

"Well, in a way, sort of," Mr. Wogglebug replied a bit uneasily. "The movie got some things wrong and some other things mixed up, and besides it was only based on the first book."

"I didn't know it was also a book!" exclaimed Gilligan in surprise.

"Why of course it was in a book to begin with!" exclaimed Mr. Wogglebug, also sounding surprised at Gilligan's ignorance. "There are also at least forty more books written by royal historians of Oz. I come in the very next after the first one. You simply must about me and my friends adventures in it. I'm sure we'll find it in the library where you live."

"We might, but where I live is hundreds of miles away from here," replied Gilligan miserably.

"It is? Then what were you doing all the way out here?" inquired Mr. Wogglebug puzzled.

"I was marooned on an island that is coming up ahead of us about four years ago," explained Gilligan.

"Four years is a long to be stranded on an island so far away from civilization," remarked Mr. Wogglebug.

"It feels like a long time," replied Gilligan. "There's no phones, no lights, no motor cars. It's primitive as can be."

"Like Robinson Crusoe, I suppose," said Mr. Wogglebug with a chuckle. "Are you all alone on the island?"

"Well, no," replied Gilligan unevenly. "There's also the Skipper, and the millionaire, Mr. Howell, and his wife, and the movie star, Ginger, and the professor, and Mary Ann."

"Hmm... I'd like to meet these other castaways. They sound so interesting," mused Mr. Wogglebug.

"Well, I'll tell you what, I'll just drop you off at the island in a few minutes and then I'll go on my way," replied Gilligan.

"What do you mean then you'll go on your way? Why do you not wish to come back to your island?" inquired Mr. Wogglebug, again in surprise.

"Well, no one there likes me anymore," replied Gilligan sadly.

"But how could they not like you?" asked Mr. Wogglebug. "You seem like such a fine young person."

"Well, that's easy for you to say when you haven't had to live with me for four years," said Gilligan dejectedly. "I'm always messing things up for everyone... including myself. We've had hundreds of chances to be rescued over the years and I always goofed them up in some way."

"But I'm sure they were all just accidents," asserted Mr. Wogglebug.

"Yes, they were," replied Gilligan. "But I'm sure everyone is tired of me and my screw-ups by now, especially the Skipper. "

"Well, what makes you say that?" inquired Mr. Wogglebug sympathetically.

Gilligan then told him all about how the Skipper had yelled at him, called him names, and hit him over the head with his hat after his latest mishap.

"Well, that does sound very harsh," said Mr. Wogglebug. "But then, everyone says things they don't mean, and I'm sure he didn't mean it. Has he ever said things like that to you before?"

"Yes," said Gilligan. "Many times."

"And tell me has he ever apologized for them before?" Mr. Wogglebug continued.

"Well, yes, he has almost every time," replied Gilligan.

"So maybe if you give him the chance he will apologize again this time," Mr. Wogglebug suggested brightly.

"I still say I'm doing him and everyone else a big favor by leaving them," Gilligan said hopelessly.

"But surely you're mistaken, my boy!" exclaimed Mr. Wogglebug. "I mean isn't there someone on the island you really like and who you'd miss terribly?"

"Well, I guess I would probably miss Mary Ann a lot," admitted Gilligan. "She's a few years younger than me, and she's the nicest person we have on the island, and she's also the sweetest girl I have ever met... and she makes the best coconut pies, too!."

Mr. Wogglebug smiled with a sparkle of understanding in his eyes. "Well, then it seems to me you being on the island did bring you, and perhaps Mary Ann, some good fortune. Maybe she feels the same way about you that you feel about her."

"Me? I... gee... I... I don't know about that..." Gilligan stuttered absently.

"You never will know if you sail away from the island before you're rescued," Mr. Wogglebug pointed out. "Why don't you just tell her how you feel about her?"

"I... I can't," Gilligan said, stuttering again. "I couldn't! She might laugh at me, and besides she deserves someone better than me, and for all I know she already has someone back at her home in Kansas waiting for her."

They had now just landed at the edge of the island's main shore. Mr. Wogglebug stood up off of the raft and then turning back to Gilligan he announced,

"I'll tell you what, Gilligan. You stay right here and I'll go ashore and meet with your fellow castaways and have a little chat with them and find out what their true feelings toward you are. Deal?"

Gilligan thought about it, and he figured it was best to not disagree with someone who was thoroughly educated and so he nodded. "Deal," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Wogglebug stepped aboard the shore of the island. He found it to be the most lush and plentiful island he had ever seen. He thought Gilligan and the others were so fortunate to have landed here.

He hadn't gone far when he came upon a medium-sized whitewashed boat with the name _S. S. Minnow_ painted on its side. He figured this must have been the boat that brought them here. Coming around to the other side of it he saw three large holes in its underside.

He saw there was a tall and tubby rotund man wearing a sleeveless navy blue shirt and tight white trousers and there was a blue sailor's cap on top of his head of silvery white hair. He was bending down next to the holes in the boat and Mr. Wogglebug could tell instantly he had to be the Skipper Gilligan told him about.

He stepped around to where the Skipper was and hearing his footsteps the Skipper said, "Gilligan, would you give me those..." He looked up and seeing Mr. Wogglebug's curious face his blue eyes went wide and his mouth became agape. He stood up, bumping his head slightly on the bridge of the boat without noticing.

"Who are you?" he asked rather fretfully. "Are you a martian?"

"Oh Heavens, no!" Mr. Wogglebug laughed good-naturedly.

"Are you a witch doctor?" the Skipper asked with his voice laced with fear.

"Certainly not," Mr. Wogglebug said firmly. "I have the honor of being a wogglebug, my dear sir! A highly magnified and thoroughly educated wogglebug."

"Oh," said the Skipper, sounding as if he didn't know whether to be relieved or not. "Where are you from?"

"From the Land of Oz," replied Mr. Wogglebug.

"I've never heard of it," replied the Skipper dazed. "I haven't sailed that far into the world."

"The land of Oz is not of this world, good sir," Mr. Wogglebug said. "It's far from it. It's over the rainbow, behind the moon, and beyond the clouds."

The Skipper looked for a moment like he was trying to figure out all this information and then he said, "Well, anyway, have you seen Gilligan? He's about this tall, he wears a white cap and a red shirt and blue jeans."

"Hmm..." Mr. Wogglebug appeared to be thinking for a moment. "No, I can't say I've seen him," he replied. "Why do you want to find him?"

"Well, he is my little buddy," replied the Skipper. "We met in the navy ten years ago and he saved my life and we've stuck together ever since. Sure he makes mistakes now and then like everyone does, but he really means well. Sure, he makes me mad sometimes. Mad enough to break him! But he has always been like my own son to me and I don't know how I'd forgive myself if something was to happen to him."

"You really mean that?" asked Mr. Wogglebug.

"Of course I do," asserted the Skipper. "It wasn't his fault we were marooned on this island. There was a big storm, or was it a hurricane? And he like me did our best to avert it and we ended up here. By the way, what are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to visit some friends I know who live on an island somewhere around here and my Gump fell apart and I found myself here. Can you tell me where I might find the other castaways on this island?"

"The Howells live in the hut up there, and the Professor lives in the one to the left, and Ginger and Mary Ann live in the one to the right," the Skipper said, indicating each direction.

"Thanks, I'll see you later," Mr. Wogglebug said, and tipping his hat he went off to see them.

The Skipper continued with his work on the boat and a moment later he paused and wondered, "What's a Gump?"

Mr. Wogglebug walked up to the hut belonging to the Howells and quietly entered. Inside he found a middle-aged couple wearing equally expensive looking clothes sitting down at what looked like a hand carved desk laid out with many fresh looking dollar bills.

"Thirty-six thousand three-hundred and thirty-two... Thirty-six thousand three-hundred and thirty-three..." the man was counting. "Oh gracious, Lovey!" he exclaimed turning to his wife. "Unless our vault back home remains untouched we'll be the poorest people in America!"

"I'm sure there's no need to worry, Thurston," his wife replied. "Our bodyguards would never let us down."

"It seems to me you're the richest people I've ever met, and you'll always be the richest people ever on this island," Mr. Wogglebug told them.

"Why thank you my boy," said Mr. Howell absently. Then he slowly turned his head and looked at Mr. Wogglebug. "Great Scott!" he exclaimed, leaping up from his chair. "What have we here?!"

His wife remained absolutely calm. "Well, Thurston, judging by his body shape, bulging eyes, and antennae I'd guess him to be an overgrown insect."

"But look at the clothes he's wearing, Lovey!" Mr. Howell exclaimed. "Judging by his hat and swallow-tail coat I'd say he was the mayor or ambassador of a far away country!"

Mr. Wogglebug smiled at him in amusement. "You and your wife are almost correct on some parts and wrong on some other parts. For I am a highly magnified wogglebug from the Land of Oz where I am the Royal Court Advisor of my dear Queen Ozma."

"The Land of Oz? Why I've never heard of it!" exclaimed Mr. Howell. "Is it a very big country?"

"Well, I'd say it's about as big as the state of Texas if not bigger," Mr. Wogglebug replied.

"Really? Well, where do you live in it?" asked Mr. Howell interested.

"I live in the Emerald City," Mr. Wogglebug replied.

"Why is it called Emerald City?" inquired Mr. Howell curiously.

"Because it is all made of emeralds," Mr. Wogglebug replied calmly.

Mr. Howell's eyes grew as wide as saucers. "Real emeralds?"

"Real emeralds," Mr. Wogglebug confirmed.

"How much is it worth?" Mr. Howell asked, looking as if he were about to drool.

"I can't be sure," Mr. Wogglebug told him. "You see in the land of Oz we don't think in monetary terms for currency is of no use to us there."

Mr. Howell rubbed his left ear. "Excuse me, sir. I must be going deaf in this ear. I thought you said you didn't use money in Oz?"

"That is precisely what I said," Mr. Wogglebug said calmly.

Mr. Howell looked as if he had just been struck by a cannon ball as he clutched at his chest and staggered toward his bed and collapsed gasping for air, almost hyperventilating.

Mrs. Howell quickly opened a drawer in the bedside table and got some smelling salts for him which she rubbed underneath his nose and after a few moments he started to come to.

"Why, my dear sir," he gasped hoarsely. "I've never heard of such horror in my life! If you don't use money in Oz then what do you use?"

"We use just our own desires to please ourselves and those we know and care about," Mr. Wogglebug replied as though this was the most natural thing to do. "What one wants the others all try to give him, and no one cares to have more than what he needs so we have no rich and no poor in Oz and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"But I simply can't imagine living like that!" cried Mr. Howell. "Money has been what I live and breathe for ever since the day I was born."

"I was afraid of that," Mr. Wogglebug lamented. "I am often sorry for you poor mortals. By the way, can you tell me anything about a short person named Gilligan?"

"Gilligan? Ah, yes! He is a guileless and gullible chap. He just can't do anything right, and not to mention he knows less to nothing about money. But in spite of these flaws he is honest and sincere and I admire that in anyone and when we get rescued I have a full mind to name my new Philadelphia estate after him."

"You really mean that?" asked Mr. Wogglebug.

"Of course I do," replied Mr. Howell. "He has after all saved my wife's life before and anyone who preserves the life of a Howell deserves to have their name staked."

"That's all I wanted to know, now I'll just excuse myself and leave you to your counting," Mr. Wogglebug said and tipped his hat just before he left.

He entered the next hut to the left and found a tall, handsome and strong-looking man sitting at a table full of strange-looking tools and instruments, as well as some beakers, flasks, and other laboratory equipment. He seemed to be deeply concentrated on a set of chemicals and fluids that were bubbling in the chemistry set laid out before him.

Mr. Wogglebug came over and sat down beside him. "What are you making?" he asked curiously.

"I am trying to formulate gasoline to fuel our boat so we can go home, and..." he turned to look at Mr. Wogglebug and studied him intently like he was reading a very in-depth book.

"Why, I've never seen anyone who looks like you before," he said in puzzlement. "And from the looks of you I'd think you were a cockroach or beetle."

"You were almost right on the last one," Mr. Wogglebug said smiling. "Beetles are somewhat related to my species. I am a wogglebug."

"Why, I've never heard of a wogglebug before," said the professor in astonishment.

"Probably because we only dwell in the Land of Oz," explained Mr. Wogglebug.

"The Land of Oz?" repeated the professor. "But I thought that place was just make-believe."

"You are indeed meant to think so because Oz must be kept a safe secret from this world outside of it. And also because you seem so educated, as you must be since you are making a substance like gasoline from scratch, that is perfectly understandable."

"Yes, I am," replied the professor. "I am Professor Roy Hinkley from the University of California. You sound very educated yourself."

"Indeed I am, thoroughly," replied Mr. Wogglebug. "Are you?"

"Well, I don't know about thoroughly," admitted the professor, "but I do try to help my fellow castaways when I can."

"I do too, my friends back home in Oz, that is, when we travel to other countries I'm usually the one who takes the lead," said Mr. Wogglebug. "Me and my Wizard friend also like to make things from scratch in our laboratory as well."

"Well, if I can formulate this into gasoline we could be saved as the Skipper and I have already managed to make sturdy nails out of wood to patch up the boat, all we need is to make sure we don't get stranded in the middle of the ocean."

"Well, I'll leave you to your calculations now," Mr. Wogglebug said as he got up and tipped his hat. "Oh! By the way, can you tell me anything about a young fellow named Gilligan?"

"Gilligan? Well, he's not too bright but he has a lot of potential in him as he always wants to do what's right."

"Thank you, Professor," replied Mr. Wogglebug. "It delights me to hear that."

He entered the next hut to the right and found a glamorous and statuesque woman with neatly manicured red hair and thick makeup on her otherwise flawless face wearing a sparkly sequined golden dress sitting at a table and looking into a hand mirror as she seemed to be fixing her face and hair.

As he came closer he listened to her quietly humming a familiar little melody.

"_Somewhere over the rainbow  
Way up high  
There's a land that I heard of  
Once in a lullaby."_

He sat down in the chair beside her and his face appeared in the corner of the mirror she was holding. For a moment she seemed startled and let out a small gasp and then she put her mirror down and turned to face him.

"Well," she smiled gleaming at him. "What kind of costume party were you on your way to when you landed on this island?"

"I am not in a costume," he replied chuckling. "I am a real live genuine wogglebug and these are the clothes I usually wear as I am from the Land of Oz."

"The land of Oz?" repeated Ginger with a sparkle in her eyes. "Do you mean as in _The Wizard Of Oz_?"

"Well, sort of," he replied.

"Oh, I do love that movie!" exclaimed Ginger breathlessly. "It was the first movie I ever saw when I was five years old and Judy Garland's performance as Dorothy much inspired me to become an actress myself."

"Well, the Dorothy I know of is extremely different from Judy Garland's portrayal," Mr. Wogglebug admitted. "But I am glad the movie inspired you, and from the look of you I'd think you actually became a great movie star yourself."

"Yes, of course. I'm Ginger Grant," she replied. "Have you ever heard of me?"

"I'm afraid not," he replied. "I've only seen one movie in my whole life when I came here in 1939 for the première of _The Wizard of Oz_ as an international critic."

"That's too bad," said Ginger sympathetically. "I've done just about everything a star could dream of doing. I often worry about how Hollywood is getting by without me, but Mr. Howell promises me he'll make sure I make a big comeback when we're rescued."

"I've just met Mr. Howell," said Mr. Wogglebug. "He is a fine gentleman of much wealth indeed. Though I would like to ask you feel towards a certain young man named Gilligan?"

"Gilligan? Oh, he's a fine boy. He's very sweet and charming and he likes me as the real person I am and not as the actress I am," replied Ginger dreamily.

"Thank you, that is all I wanted to hear," said Mr. Wogglebug getting up and tipping his hat just before he left.

He went around to the other side of the hut and suddenly smelled something cooking. So he followed it and came upon a young girl with dark ponytails wearing a short blue and white gingham dress and a pair of sandals bending over a wooden stove a turning something over in a frying pan.

He stepped up to her and asked, "What's cooking?"

"Breakfast, of course," she replied. "It's coconut pancakes and..." She turned her head to the side and looked at him clearly now. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed startled. "I've never seen you here before. Where did you come from?"

"From the Land of Oz," he replied shortly.

"The land of Oz?" repeated Mary Ann. "Why I used to read all about it when I was a child. Now you seem to be familiar to me... you are... you are... wait! You are the Wogglebug! Mr. H.M. Wogglebug T. E.!"

"You are absolutely correct!" Mr. Wogglebug exclaimed in delight. "I am so glad someone here knows about the Land of Oz... though if you've read them you may also have read some untrue statements about me in them. You mustn't believe them at all, especially not the phrasing in the last book, and our historian wrote only because he was ill and confused at the time."

"I never believed in it," Mary Ann assured him quickly. "In fact, I hardly remember it. But I remember I'd always thought you were a nice, intelligent and lovable person."

Mr. Wogglebug smiled with relief. "That reminds me, I'd like to know how you feel about a certain young man named Gilligan?"

"Gilligan? Why, he is the nicest boy I've ever met. Much nicer than any of the boys back home in Kansas who have just gone after me for my looks as far as I can remember. Gilligan isn't like that, he never tries to take advantage of me or anyone. He's so shy and quiet but I can tell that underneath he has a big strong heart."

Mr. Wogglebug smiled in satisfaction. "That's what I thought. I like you, Mary Ann, you always try to see the good in everyone just as I do."

"Yes, I do," she replied. "By the way, where is Gilligan? I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"Well, I'll go and see if I can find him for you," Mr. Wogglebug said and rushed off.


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Wogglebug hurried back to the edge of the island where he found Gilligan sitting on the raft.

"Gilligan my boy! Come quickly!" he exclaimed jovially as he rushed up to him. "It's just as I'd said! Everyone cares about you and they're wondering about where you are!"

Gilligan seemed astonished. "Really? Are you sure?" he asked.

"Sure as can be!" replied Mr. Wogglebug.

He led Gilligan back through the way he came and they found the other castaways gathering around the table in the clearing for breakfast and the moment they saw Gilligan they all got up and rushed towards him.

"Gilligan, little buddy! Where have you been?" exclaimed the Skipper as he ran up to hug Gilligan.

"I've looked all over for you, Gilligan! I'm so glad you're safe!" exclaimed Mary Ann as she kissed Gilligan on his cheek.

"Gosh, I didn't think anybody cared if I was gone," said Gilligan in surprise. "I thought you wanted me to leave, Skipper, you said I was a doofus."

"Gilligan, don't be silly," said the Skipper. "If anything happened to you I don't know what I'd do!"

"Neither do I," added Mary Ann. "We all care about you Gilligan. We know you can't help being the way you are."

"Running away never solves anything, my boy," said Mr. Howell.

"That's right, Gilligan," added the Professor. "We don't want you to be left behind when we're rescued."

"Rescued?" repeated Gilligan in surprise. "But I thought..."

"Yesterday I came up with a whole new plan to be rescued," continued the Professor. "The Skipper and I invented a new brand of nails that will patch up the _Minnow_ and now as soon as I can figure out how to make gasoline we can be on our way."

"As for that," Mr. Wogglebug said to the Professor. "I know of a secret ingredient with which to make absolute gasoline. I will give it to you if you will repair my Gump for me."

"Well, I would willingly repair your Gump for you, Mr. Wogglebug. If I only knew what a Gump is," replied the Professor.

"I will tell you all about it over our breakfast," replied Mr. Wogglebug. "Those coconut pancakes smell good!"

So they all sat down to breakfast and Mr. Wogglebug told them all about how the Gump was constructed and about all the adventures he and his companions had while riding in it.

"So all I need is a fresh set of palm fronds from one of your trees and I'll be able to help you out," he concluded.

"Consider it done," said the Professor heartily. "But where were you going when your Gump fell apart?"

"I was on my way to visit the island of the living dinosaurs," he replied calmly.

"But there are no living dinosaurs, it's scientifically impossible!" exclaimed the Professor.

"You think that because you don't know any better," Mr. Wogglebug replied earnestly. "I thought so myself until a hurricane landed me and my friends onto their island. And not only do these dinosaurs thrive, they talk and walk upright, and live in houses, and have an actual society set up there."

"Well, I've heard rumors of dinosaurs being seen in various parts of the world, but talking dinosaurs id definitely something I never heard of!" exclaimed the Skipper.

"I was in a movie once where a group of castaways found an island inhabited by dinosaurs," said Ginger. "But they were the prehistoric kind and one of the characters got eaten by a Tyrannosaurus Rex."

"It's too bad we didn't end up on their island instead of here," said Gilligan.

"I don't know about that," said Mr. Wogglebug. "They don't usually take kindly to strangers. And besides, I'm not sure what dimension it's in."

"Dimension?" echoed the Professor.

"Yes, I've been to all sorts of alternate dimensions," explained Mr. Wogglebug. "This is only one of them. In fact, in the dimension where me and my friends live you are all characters on a TV show sitcom."

"Hey, what do you know! I'm a TV star!" exclaimed Gilligan.

They finished breakfast and then they went down to the island's edge where they salvaged the two sofas of the Gump as well as the head and the broom. Then Gilligan climbed one of the palm trees with the largest fronds and picked four which they fastened to the sides of the sofas and held them together with a new cord of rope.

After this Mr. Wogglebug went with the Professor into the laboratory of his hut and took out a tiny vial he had with him and put a drop of what was in it into the professor's formula for gasoline.

"I must admit I am curious about what this substance is," said the Professor.

"It is a substance which is used to make many of the most powerful and important things in the Land of Oz," said Mr. Wogglebug. "It is liquid magic."

Then before their eyes the formula turned a pale yellow color. "It's gasoline now," said the Professor in delight. "Now we'll just finish patching up the boat and fill up the tank and we'll be on our way!"

"Mr. Wogglebug, how can we ever thank you enough?" asked the Skipper.

"Well, you can't," replied Mr. Wogglebug.

So then they finished rebuilding the boat and the professor filled the tank with gasoline and kept a barrel full of extra on board.

Then Mr. Wogglebug got into his Gump and they all waved goodbye to each other as he took to the air and they took to the sea.

As Mr. Wogglebug was flying high above them over the ocean he began wondering if there was something he had forgotten about the magic element he had given them to make their gasoline.

The crew and passengers of the S. S. Minnow were sailing along smoothly until suddenly a sputtering noise was heard from down below.

"What do you suppose that could be?" Gilligan asked the Skipper.

"I don't know," he replied. "I'll go down and take a look at the fuel gage."

And he did and what he found astounded him. Creamy white foam was pouring out of the tank and spilling everywhere. The Skipper rushed back up to the deck and told the others what he had found.

"And look!" exclaimed Gilligan who was standing at the end of the ship. "It's spilling out into the ocean too!"

"But how could this be?" asked the Professor in puzzlement.

Just then they felt a flapping breeze beside them. They turned and saw Mr. Wogglebug hovering next to them in his Gump. He had an embarrassed look on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I completely forgot. The magic in the fluid I gave you turns into foam when it comes in contact with salty sea water."

"Hey, everybody forgets things," said Gilligan easily. "And I should know as I do all the time."


End file.
